


Aposiopesis

by JohnAmendAll



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 20:32:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12660891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnAmendAll/pseuds/JohnAmendAll
Summary: The time to worry was when Brian stopped shouting.





	Aposiopesis

**Author's Note:**

> From a 'Spooky ficlets' meme on Dreamwidth. Prompt from [AllyHR](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AllyHR/): 'Angels, Eighth Doctor&Grace'

Grace hadn't been paying much attention to the background chatter of the party, preferring to concentrate on being diplomatic to members of the senior management, and avoiding unwanted advances from those who'd had too much to drink. But, midway through her conversation with the deputy district administrator, the sound of raised voices was impossible to ignore. 

"Who put that cockamamie thing there?" someone was demanding. Grace groaned inwardly as she recognised the voice. Brian, of course. It would have to be Brian. And by the sound of things he'd had far too much to drink. 

"Is this someone's idea of a—" 

Grace's mounting irritation was abruptly transformed to something closer to worry. Brian wasn't the sort of person to break off in the middle of a complaint. At least, not without launching fresh invective at whoever or whatever had distracted him. 

Politely, she disengaged herself from the administrator, and began to make her way through the groups of people. Maybe she was imagining things, but it seemed to her that there was a change in the mood of the party. The cheerful conversation seemed to be muted, and the room didn't look as crowded as it had earlier. By the sound of things, Brian had been out in the hallway... 

She pushed the door open. There was no sign of Brian, conscious or unconscious. But since she'd arrived, someone had put a statue in the middle of the hall: a demure winged figure in white marble, its hands held up to cover its eyes. Grace gave it a suspicious look, trying to work out who had put it there. 

"Don't take your eyes off it," a familiar voice said, close beside her. 

"Doctor!" Grace spun round to face him. The Doctor looked older since she had seen him, and was dressed in a battered leather overcoat instead of the fancy dress costume he'd worn the last time she saw him. Not moving his own gaze, which was fixed firmly on the statue, he put his hand on top of her head and turned it, directing her attention back to the marble figure. 

"If I ask what you're doing here, would I get an answer?" Grace said. 

"I'm just trying to keep out of trouble," the Doctor replied. On the surface he sounded calm, but Grace sensed an underlying tension. "Maybe one day I'll get the hang of it. Anyway, that's not the question you should be asking." 

"The statue?" Thanks to the Doctor's hand on her head Grace had no choice but to look at it, but it didn't seem to be doing anything untoward. "Someone put it there, I guess. Why? Practical joke?" 

"Hardly." The Doctor let go of her head and took her by the hand. "It's not the only one. This party's surrounded." 

"By statues?" 

"They're not statues." 

"Right..." If anyone else had said that, Grace would have considered them a lunatic. But with the Doctor, all bets were off. "These not-statues. Do they make people disappear?" 

"That's a good guess." 

"I can put two and two together and make four." Grace, despite herself, shivered. _You will softly and suddenly vanish away / And never be met with again._ "Is there anything else I should know?" 

"I've got a nasty feeling it might be you they're after. You were touched by the TARDIS; that's just the sort of thing that would attract..." The Doctor tailed off, as one of the fluorescent lights flickered. "We need to get moving. Keep close beside me, Grace. And whatever you do, try not to blink."


End file.
